


#ffd6f6

by SpaceguyLewis



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Knitting, Pacific Rim Holiday Swap 2015, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5533967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceguyLewis/pseuds/SpaceguyLewis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crimson knits a sweater and thinks about how he got there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#ffd6f6

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for kaijubuns on tumblr.

Knit, purl, knit, purl, knit, purl. The soft clicking of bamboo needles was quiet in comparison to the rainstorm outside. Crimson looked up and out over his balcony into the gloom of the dusk. 

It was funny how his ancient auto-targeting systems began to run over his field of vision, trying to pick out any threats in the landscape. Crimson knew for a fact there wasn’t a thing in the world that would  threaten a Mark IV when they were sitting alone in their apartment knitting a sweater. 

Crimson had picked up the hobby after walking into a specialty yarn shop by accident on his way to the post office. The Jaeger behind the desk was a friendly prototype mark with heavy blue plating trimmed in gold. He had asked where the post office was, and she had pointed him across the street. Crimson had returned fifteen minutes later asking about the craft, and here he was a few months later making a birthday present for Gipsy Danger, his neighbor a floor below him. She was a broad-shouldered Mark-III who was a streetfighter in the gambling halls on the other side of the city. They weren’t overly close, per say. They had both fought in the Great Kaiju War and had a mutual respect for one another based around a system of not asking uncomfortable questions; Gipsy never made offhand comments about his bonus arm, and Crimson never asked about her extra eyes. 

In all honesty, Crimson loved his bonus arm: he could knit and read a book at the same time, or if things got tricky and tangled up he could hold the needles in one hand and use the other two to free himself. It was an excellent system, and even though most Jaegers had two or four or - in the case of the Delta-Tau-Omega fusion - six arms he never thought to add an extra arm to his left side or permanently combine the two on his left. Three arms was the perfect amount.

Gradually, the thick rose colored yarn looped in and out of itself into a sleeve, then a torso, and then another sleeve. This particular sweater was the most complicated he’d made so far; it had three thick cables on the front, three on the back, and one for each side, each separated by two thinner cables. Crimson knew that Gipsy only appreciated pink when it was very pale, exemplified by the sweet pea blossoms that often crawled up from her tiny balcony garden to his. The sweet peas were how Crimson had remembered her from the war in the first place, as the Mark III had been humming along to the ancient Sonorous Radio when he had accidentally dropped a teaspoon over the edge of his balcony. Gipsy had reached out and caught the utensil out of reflex before passing it up to him. She was a brash, rude, yet cheerful soul, and Crimson counted himself lucky to know such a Jaeger. 

Outside, the light level had gradually fallen into the familiar indigo of night-time, but the rain hadn’t let up. It would continue on for a while yet, and Crimson would enjoy its music.


End file.
